


Drunk History

by gardnerhill



Series: The Vermilion Problem [15]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Community: watsons_woes, Gen, Phobias, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25046029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: One can learn amazing things at a drunken 2 a.m.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Series: The Vermilion Problem [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/283167
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39
Collections: Watson's Woes JWP Collection: 2020





	Drunk History

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2020 July Watson's Woes Promptfest prompt #2, **Phobias Redux:** Let’s revisit an old prompt. Either Watson or Holmes has a phobia. Who is it, why do they have it, and how did the other discover it?

As my friend Sherlock Holmes and I became better acquainted, we shared secrets about ourselves and our families. This was easiest when three factors were in play: the time was the wee hours of the night, we were celebrating the successful end of a case, and we were both drunk. 

I imbibed first by necessity, taking something strong and dark like ancient whisky straight from the Highlands or sin-red port. Only then did Holmes take his dram straight from my alcohol-enriched veins, leaving him not only nourished but light-headed and boneless as I. 

On such nights I learned much of my friend's sordid history and the ways of his inhuman kind. He in turn learned what he could not deduce about my own past, or acquired the details that filled out what he had gleaned. We spoke of writers we admired, and those whom we despised. (I told him I had no use for John Donne; he told me that Mycroft and he had laughed uproariously whilst reading the _Malleus Maleficarum_.) 

On one such occasion the discussion was on fears, which had begun when Holmes extolled my confrontation of our armed opponent. I had begged to differ. "It's nothing to do with courage, old fellow, but merely what had to be done. It was the same in Afghanistan; I went looking for a bit of adventure and only found horrid work. I couldn't leave men half-broken under enemy fire, not while I could put them together and try to pull them to safety. I was terrified every time I ran in, but I knew I could give them a longer life." I looked into my snifter and exhaled hard, not quite a laugh. "Sometimes I gave them a whole extra minute." 

"One minute is all that's needed for a _Paternoster_." Holmes regarded me with his warm grey eyes, that shone with affection now that he was well-fed and in his cups. "They died with clean souls. Even if we were among them, they would be untouchable then, safe from us." 

Warmth filled me that had nothing to do with the brandy, nor the too-cool body next to mine. That was more comforting than I had imagined. 

"No, that fear does not count, Watson. To fear for your life whilst facing enemy fire is a very rational fear, just as I despise silver and garlic. No, what I speak of are irrational fears." 

I thought of the stories my gran told me in my childhood about dreadful supernatural beasts, stories that now paled alongside the fact that I currently shared lodging expenses and work with a vampire. "Hm. I'm not fond of spiders. I believe it's the way they move that's so disquieting, those sharp unpredictable movements from an essentially mindless creature… Holmes?"

My vampire friend was laughing. "Watson," he managed to choke out. "That is the very reason I am terrified of _rabbits_."

When that truly sank in, I don't think either of us stopped lauging for a full hour.


End file.
